


Wet on Set

by mistressterably



Category: Peter Capaldi - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 16:33:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4712801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistressterably/pseuds/mistressterably
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some of the things you have to do as an actor...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wet on Set

Peter left his house too damned early in the morning for his liking. Part of the price he paid to be an actor. Be available at all hours of the day for whatever role he had signed up for. He knew what he was signing up for the day Steven had asked him over for the audition to be the 12th Doctor. What a roller coaster it’s been, though. Two seasons under their belt and now his second Christmas episode was just starting to film. The read through had been emotional. Jenna had had to take a time out at one point. She’d been such a rock since he’d first stepped onto the set to film the regeneration scene. It had been inevitable though that she would leave. Even now, he could only say that he was set for one more season himself. The talks between his agent and the BBC were still ongoing but he’d made it very clear that he was more than willing to go as long as they wanted him to be the Doctor. 

For now though, it was an unholy 4 am in the morning and he was bundling himself into his car to drive himself to the studio. If anyone knew that he drove himself about there’d be such a frenzy of fans about all the time. Although they would have to be incredibly insane to be anywhere on the streets at this time of the night. Especially in his neighborhood in Crouch End. It was just nice enough to have the police paged to show up if there were any sort of disturbance or loitering. The car started and he waited a few moments for it to warm up. Bloody cold mornings, he rubbed his hands together. The morning’s filming was to involve the water scenes and he was not looking forward to that at all. The producer had reassured him that there would be plenty of heat lamps and wardrobe changes to keep him dry and warm. Catching a cold would not make him happy at all. Not with him scheduled to attend a number of Christmas events. 

With little traffic and the street lights blinking rapidly as he drove, he sipped at his coffee to try to wake himself up. His satnav was chirping happily at him to turn through the dark streets until he arrived at the studio. It wasn’t the normal one as this one had a water tank large enough for them to use for these scenes. The layout had been explained to him (or more accurately he had pestered the director for details just to satisfy his own curiosity) and he’d been eager enough to take part. An underwater chase they had said. He felt sorry for the actors that would be playing the baddies, they’d not only have to be in rubber suits but they’d be laden down with the alien add-ons. The fans would so love these aliens! He laughed to himself as he recalled the original Sea Devils and Silurians get-ups. It certainly brought those outfits to mind.

Arriving on set, he was directed to park in amongst the other cars of the crew and cast. Getting out of his car, he emptied the last of his coffee and licked his lips clean of the drops. 

‘Mr. Capaldi, your dressing room is this way.’ The crew member was escorting him to a small room where his costume for the episode was already hanging there for him to change into, the mirror lit up ready for the makeup team to do their thing with his mass of grey curls. He hated that so many of the crew wouldn’t just call him Peter no matter how many times he tried to correct them. Formality was a pain and he really wasn’t into this whole ‘treat him like a star’ behaviour.   
The wardrobe crew hung about as usual until he chased them out. ‘I can get dressed without your help! Really! I can! I’ve donned these layers many times!’ They tried (again!) to help him but he growled at them and asked them to get him a coffee. Alone for the moment, he started to change out of his t-shirt and jeans and began pulling on his various costume layers. He groaned as he saw the four different shirts they were kitting him out with for the episode. Undershirt - pink again. T-shirt - plain white (it wouldn’t be seen on screen he had argued, couldn’t they liven it up with the skull shirt he owned? No, had been the answer. Plain white will do. ), Holey jumper (he still grinned at how he’d managed to wriggle that bit of wardrobe in!). And the zip up hoodie. Ah! A bit of good news, they were leaving off the jacket. At least for these scenes. He pulled on his shoes and was just finishing tying them up when there was a light knock on his dressing room.

‘Mr. Capaldi? Coffee’s here and we’re ready to do the make up.’ The junior crew member was being as polite as possible. 

‘All set, come on in.’ Peter called out and the crew member came in bearing a large cup of coffee for him. ‘Ah, that alone makes me want to hug you!’ He took hold of the coffee and took a sip to test the heat. Cool enough to gulp so he did, licking his lips and having to wipe off a drop that got stuck on his stubble. ‘Whose idea again was it for the Doctor to be a little scruffy in this episode?’

‘You’d have to talk to the writer, sir.’ The makeup crew wandered in and he was soon sat in front of the mirror. He slipped his glasses on and raised the script for the day’s filming up so he could review it while they fussed with his hair. Thankfully today didn’t mean a lot of talking just a lot of chasing about in the water. 

‘We’re just about ready!’ A voice called through the door. 

‘All done,’ The makeup crew announced and he was heading out of the dressing room and then escorted towards the large tank. 

‘The plan is for you to run along the ledge there, Jenna trailing behind you, if you can let’s try to have her hanging onto your hand from behind to keep you from getting too far ahead of you. Then, when I yell dive go into the water. Peter, tell Jenna at that point to hold her breath as long as she can and then the aliens will run up after you and follow you in. We’re only looking for a few moments of underwater swimming for this part of the shoot. We’ll do the one take of you diving in and then as you’ll be wet we’ll do some shots of the two of you swimming the length away from the aliens. That way we can get that in right away and then see if another dive take will be needed.’

Jenna, dressed in a lot less layers, and Peter headed up the ladder to the run. A green screen had been set up for the CGI background effect and there’d been some rocks set up along the floor. ‘Already for your morning run, Jenna?’ Peter asked with a grin.

‘How could I not be!’ Jenna replied. ‘I can’t believe they’ve gone with all of those layers for you.!

‘It’s the curse of the Time Lord! A victim of fashion!’ Peter winked at her as the cameras were set and then director yelled ‘RUN!’  
They were off along the short run and wound up not jumping in on the first run as one of the lower cameras stalled on them. They headed back to the start of the run and did a few more test runs before the first dive try. 

‘Clara!’ The Doctor called back to her. ‘How long can you hold your breath!’ 

‘Long enough!’ She answered, then his hand squeezed hers tightly and they were both diving into the water and swimming the short length to the end of the tank. 

Rising to the top of the tank, soaked to the skin both of them. ‘Agh!’ Peter coughed and, unceremoniously, spat up a mouthful of water. Behind them the ‘aliens’ were coming up behind them and settling on the edge of the tank themselves. ‘How do they rank wetsuits and Jenna and I didn’t? We are the headliners after all!’ 

‘Realism, Peter!’ The director countered him. ‘Let’s get those swimming shots. I want you both to try for as fast as you can but not flopping about frantically.’

Both of them headed to the other end of the tank and dove under to swim the length of the tank holding their breath. After three takes, Peter called a brief halt to catch his breath. His long hair was stuck to his forehead. ‘Jenna, why did they bother with make up anyway for these shots?’

‘Waterproof makeup they said.’ She was pushing her own long wet hair out of her face as she leaned on the edge of the tank. ‘I’m not sure how it’s holding up.’ 

‘Well, we both look sufficiently wet.’ 

‘Can we do a few more takes of swimming before you both take a break to dry off for a bit?’ The director asked. 

‘Jenna?’ Peter asked her solicitously. 

‘If you’re up to it, so am I.’ Jenna answered and soon they were off to swim the length of the tank a few more times. 

‘Cut!’ The director finally called out and hands were helping the two of them out of the water. Peter felt exhausted having four layers of sodden clothes on. Even his trousers were heavy. The last time they’d been this bad was during the filming of Into the Dalek. The goop they’d had them swim in was so much thicker than water. He was trying to wring out as much water as he could and happened to glance up at Jenna. She was lucky to only have a normal outfit on but it was her usual skimpy skirt and blouse and, he looked away quickly, it was clinging to her incredibly close. 

‘Let’s get you out of those clothes,’ The wardrobe team were on them leading them off the set to their own dressing rooms.   
‘I really can do this on my own,’ Peter grumbled but the wardrobe assistant insisted on staying in the dressing room with him.

‘Need to collect the clothes right away to get them to be dried. If they’re needed then they’ll have to be dry for another dive scene.’

Peter was able to successfully pull off the hoody and the sweater but the t-shirt and undershirt seemed to be glued to him and his arms were tired from swimming. The assistant helped him struggle out of the wet shirts and left him naked from the waist up. He turned his back on the fellow and stripped out of the trousers. In return, the assistant handed him a terry cloth robe to slip into. ‘Ugh.’ Peter mumbled as his boxers were clinging uncomfortably to his legs and crotch. 

‘I’ll get the heat lamps going.’ The assistant said, wet clothes in one hand he bent over to turn over the portable small lamps. ‘Will you need anything while you dry off?’

‘Coffee would be nice, and ah,’ Peter paused for a moment and then asked, ‘Would there be any spare pairs of boxers in wardrobe at all?’

‘I’ll check, Mr. Capaldi.’ The assistant left him alone in the dressing room. Alone, Peter was reaching under the robe and slipping out of his soaked boxers. Going commando would be a lot more comfortable, he decided. 

He shifted the heat lamp to aim directly towards the chair and sat down. He held the robe up slightly to let the warm air aim right at his crotch. Sighing happily, he sat back for a moment to relax. Peter must have dozed off as he came too with a start at the knock on the dressing room door. ‘Hello?’ 

‘Coffee, Mr. Capaldi.’ A young woman’s voice came through the door. 

‘Ah, good! Come in!’ Peter said as he wrapped the robe tightly around his legs. 

The young intern, Helena, entered and handed him his coffee. ‘Can I get you anything else, Mr. Capaldi?’

‘Is there any breakfast around yet?’ He asked, a look of ecstasy on his face as he sipped his coffee. ‘And any idea how long until I’m needed again?’

‘They’re still doing shots with the aliens in the tank. They’re having some difficulties with the rubber suits.’ 

‘Bugger,’ Peter muttered. ‘Sorry, was there a breakfast around at all?’

‘I believe so, Mr. Capaldi.’ Helena said. ‘Can I fetch you something?’  
‘Please, just call me Peter.’ He tried again. ‘I think I can manage getting myself something to eat. Is it far?’

‘Not far, but the floors are all concrete from here.’

‘I’ll just slip my own running shoes on.’ Peter got up and was slipping into his shoes without socks. ‘There, lead on to the grub!’ Helena led Peter down to the breakfast spread and sat with him as he ate some pastries and had another coffee. ‘That hit the spot.’ He sat back after he finished, patting his stomach. 

‘There you are, Peter!’ Jenna wandered in, already changed into a dry outfit. ‘Why didn’t you change?’

‘Too many layers and the heat lamps were rather warm.’ Peter smiled. 

‘It’s a good thing it’s still early in the morning and it’s all indoors. Can you imagine the fans if they were to catch you in just your shorts.’ Jenna laughed.

‘Hah! They’d be going absolutely bonkers about now. No shorts!’ Peter said with a grin. 

Jenna’s jaw dropped open. ‘Peter!’ 

‘I’ve got a robe on.’ Peter said. ‘Tsk, you’d think I was prancing about in the buff. Been awhile since I did a nude scene.’

‘And we’re not doing one now either!’ Jenna shot back at him. ‘I’m going back on set to see how things are going.’

Peter stuck his tongue out at Jenna’s retreating back. Helena had just sat there quietly during their exchange. ‘Ever since she went and got involved with the Royal family she’s been a bit tetchy. Prudes, the lot of them. Well, Helena, shall we head back to my dressing room?’

‘If you want to.’ Helena said. 

‘Suppose I should get dressed. At least my crotch is properly dry.’ Peter commented as he headed back to his room with Helena in the lead. ‘If you ever become an actor, don’t do water scenes. They’re uncomfortable in so many ways.’ He offered up the tip to her as they walked back. 

Once again in his dressing room he got dressed and ready for the next round of takes. There were a total of four more runs and dives for Jenna and Peter before the director took pity on them and called it a wrap for the day. ‘That should do it, thank you ladies and gents!’

Helena had led him back to his dressing room once more and was standing outside the room as Peter stripped a last time out of the wet costume. ‘Damn it!’ 

‘What’s wrong?’ She called through the door. 

‘I’m stuck!’ 

‘Stuck?’ Helena asked. ‘How do you get stuck getting out clothes?’

‘The t-shirts are wet, practically glued together! Get in here!’ 

Helena opened the dressing room door and found him struggling to get the wet shirts off. They’d gotten stuck halfway up so she could see his stomach and lower half of his chest. His trousers were stuck to him as well and she bit her lip at the clinging around his crotch. ‘Hold still, Peter.’

He stopped struggling and she was helping to pull the shirts off of him. He bent over to help her out and then the shirts came off. ‘Freedom!’ He raised his arms up in victory. ‘Now to get these damn trousers off.’ Without thinking he was undoing his belt and stripping the wet trousers off in front of Helena. When she gasped he looked up and then down at where she was looking. ‘Oops.’

Helena turned her back quickly. ‘Sorry!’

‘No no, my bad. I forgot that I’d taken the boxers off earlier. Didn’t remember. Sorry.’ Peter did blush slightly but didn’t really try to cover himself. Helena was rather good looking after all. ‘The towels are over by you, Helena.’ 

‘I’ll just leave you to dry off then.’ She said and made to leave the room.

‘But then who’ll help dry my back?’ Peter asked. 

‘Ah, um,’ Helena hesitated, her back still towards him. 

Peter took matters into his own hands and stepped up behind her. ‘These early morning shoots can be hard on a man.’ His hands rested on her shoulders. ‘Waking up on one’s own, early, in the dark. Then surrounded by all these helpful strangers.’ He leaned towards her neck. ‘Wish more of them were as nice to look at as you.’

‘Peter!’ Helena said his name in surprise as his lips pressed against her neck. ‘Oh!’

‘Mm, sorry. I must have cold hands from the water yet.’ Peter teased her. ‘Unless you’d rather not.’

‘I ah, oh,’ Helena stuttered, flustered somewhat by his advances. ‘Folks said you were...’ She trailed off. 

‘Don’t believe those rumours you hear about the set.’ Peter told her softly. ‘I’m willing if you are.’

‘You’re the star,’ Helena resisted. ‘I’m only a junior assistant. A spare hand on set.’

‘And that means what?” Peter was kissing her neck still. ‘That as a woman you can’t decide who you want to have sex with? I’m willing. Are you?’

Helena turned to face him. ‘I am but..’

‘Then, as the Doctor would say, shut up.’ Peter bent to kiss her on the lips. Helena responded eagerly. He was already naked so she was quickly stroking his chest, enjoying the soft patch of hair under her fingers. Peter, his body responding, was holding her face in his hands, long fingers cupping her face as he kissed her. His tongue pressed between her lips, tasting her. It was too long since his last tryst and he was aching now. Helena could feel him harden between them as he was close against her. 

He ran his hands over her arms, down to her hands and guided her towards his stomach. Helena took Peter’s hint and ran her fingers over his stomach and lower towards his groin. Peter moaned into her mouth as she gently wrapped a hand around his thickening erection. Wanting her naked, he began to undress her. Unresisting now, Helena helped him undress her and then, she squeaked slightly as he was practically picking her up off her feet and setting her into the chair in front of the mirror. Peter was lifting her leg up and over the arm of the chair, opening her up for him. 

With a glint in his eye, he kissed her on the lips and let his hand dip between her wide open crotch. A long finger slid quickly into her wet hole, easing in and out of her making her squirm under his touch. Her hands ran down his back to reach his cheeks, taking them in her grasp she was squeezing them and trying to pull him towards her. He laughed lightly against her lips. ‘More than willing, I’d say.’

‘Shut up,’ She moaned as he slipped two fingers into her. ‘God, I want you.’

‘Mm, and I want you.’ Peter responded and, his fingers sliding out of her he moved closer, his hand around his own erection and was pushing into her. Helena moaned and shifted in the chair until she was at a better angle for him to bury himself inside her. One leg wrapped over his hip, he thrust into her, slow at first to enjoy the moment but Helena was urging him to go faster. Too soon, he was groaning against her neck and driving into her hard. ‘God,’ He whispered in her ear. ‘Oh.. god...’ He drove as deep as he could into her and came. Breathing quickly, he tried to continue but couldn’t keep up the pace so, staying buried inside her, he slipped his finger down between her folds and rubbed her clit until she was crying out with her own orgasm. 

Panting, she was clutching him against her, not wanting him to part from her just yet. Kissing him passionately, Helena reached down to urge his fingers to keep rubbing her. With a second cry, her body trembled as she orgasmed again. 

Peter tenderly stroked her as she came down until he felt her relax against him. Then he slid out of her, leaving her gasping softly. ‘Thank you.’ He said, kissing her lightly. 

‘Did that..’ Helena gasped still in his arms. 

‘Regretting it?’ Peter asked. 

‘No!’ She said emphatically. 

‘Mm, good. I’d hate to think that you did regret it.’ He smiled and, being the gentleman he was, helped her compose herself. 

‘But, this, us.. it was just one off?’ Helena asked. 

‘Yes, just one off.’ Peter said. ‘Regrets now? Knowing that?’ 

‘No, no regrets. If you ever do settle down, the lady you choose is going to be one incredibly lucky woman.’


End file.
